


The Escape

by pizarra



Series: The Warlock's Bane [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:13:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pizarra/pseuds/pizarra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin gets his chance to escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Escape

Arthur has been invited to the Kingdom of North Umbria for a week to talk about the state of trade between the two kingdoms. Merlin has been invited, too, but he caught a nasty fever when he last visited town. With his magic bound, his body can no longer protect itself from common sickness. Arthur had been angry, shouting at the knights who accompanied Merlin to the town that day, for letting the King Consort get near a sick person, for letting him fall prey to ordinary illness. Merlin kept his face stoic and calm all throughout Arthur’s rant.

In private, Merlin had been glad that he did not have to act like a loving husband to Arthur in front of the King and Queen of North Umbria. They had been gentle and kind royals when they visited Camelot two years into Arthur’s reign. They have also admired Guinevere for her strong will and compassion. They knew him as the King’s manservant.

Merlin didn’t have the heart to face them.

It is the second night that Arthur has been away. He’s in his bedclothes, climbing into the huge bed and staying on his side of it, staring at the canopy as Odi clears away the room. Once finished, Odi puts out the candles one by one, and still Merlin doesn’t sleep.

“Sleep, Sire, you need it,” Odi whispers before closing the door behind him.

Merlin turns on his side, facing the fireplace, hoping for sleep to come. His mind, however, is filled with thoughts of pain and murder and mayhem, and he can’t get any rest. A few moments later, he hears a noise behind him.

He quickly sits up and looks around. He knows he heard it; he’s not imagining things, but there’s no one there.

This time, the sound comes from the door. In a panic, he gets off the bed and backs slowly to the wall nearest to the servant’s door so that he can get away quickly if he has to. Just because he’s not an active part of Arthur’s cruelty, doesn’t mean that he’s with no enemies. Plenty of people hate him for being such a compliant instrument in Arthur’s madness.

Another thud resonates through the room, but before he can call for the knights underneath his window, a huge hand covers his mouth while a beefy arm winds around his chest.

His death is to be in the hands of a stranger, not Arthur. How poetic.

Merlin struggles, not wanting the give his assassin the satisfaction of an easy kill. The grip around his chest tightens, and he struggles to breathe as his lungs is slowly being constricted. He’s lifted off the ground.

“Shh. Shh, Sire, it’s me!” The stranger hisses in his ear. “It’s Percival!”

He stops struggling, and strains his neck to look at the man holding him. It really is Percival. His eyes are full of worry and determination.

“I’ll let you go, only if you don’t alert the other knights. This is important,” Percival whispers.

He nods his head as much as he’s allowed.

Percival slowly lowers his feet to the ground, then gently brings down his massive arms. Still breathing hard, he stares at the knight. He’s wearing dark clothing and cloak, chainmail, and he’s armed to the teeth. His sword belt is around his waist and Merlin spies plenty of small knives tucked in every available space of his clothing.

“Percival? What’s going on?”

“No time to explain, Sire, but we’re getting you out.”

Fear grips Merlin at the knight’s answer. He shakes his head. “No. No, you can’t. He’ll know, don’t you understand? My magic is bound to him; he’ll know in an instant where I am should he look for me. Percival, please, don’t risk your life for this.”

The knight just shakes his head. “We have the spell that will break the binding. Please, sire! We’ve not much time. We have to leave, now!”

The spell?

The spell!

In an instant, he makes the decision. He’ll run. He’ll run with Percival and get his magic unbound. He won’t say goodbye. The less they know, the safer they are. Then he’ll come back for Gaius and Odi and Ezra. They’ll be alright. They’ll be alright.

They have to be alright, because Merlin won’t know what to do with himself otherwise.

He grabs a dark blue cloak from the cupboard, and sees Percival smile. Swiftly, they leave the chambers through the servant’s door, winding their way through the passages, ducking behind tapestries and doors as knights and guards pass, until they’re at the northern part of the castle. Percival lifts his hood to cover his face, prompting Merlin to do the same despite the area being clear. He knows this; they cannot be seen.

They walk a few paces when the alarm bells ring. Percival grabs his hand and starts running toward the forests at high speed. Percival’s legs are a bit longer than his, but he keeps up, running with all his strength, racing away from his miserable life. The bells sound loud in his ears, his breath feels short, and he hears the guards shouting.

“King Merlin is gone! He’s been taken!”

“Find the King! Find the King!

“The King has been taken! Alert the General! Find him!”

They reach the edge, but Merlin still does not feel safe. He and Percival hide behind huge trees for a bit, keeping their heavy breathing quiet. Merlin dares a look at the city and finds it bright. Every torch in the city has been lit.

“Sire.”

Merlin turns his head. Percival points to his right, then lowers his hand with the palm flat. _Stay low._

He nods, then waits for Percival’s signal before he runs. He keeps low, his knees slightly bent to prevent from being seen. They run like that until they can no longer hear the shouts of the guards and they can no longer see the lights of the city.

All of a sudden, Percival stops near the mouth of a dark cave. Both he and Merlin lean their hands on their knees to get their breathing back to normal, not talking to each other. They stay that way for a while, Percival lowering himself slowly to sit on the ground.

The cracking of leaves and branches from behind him alert Merlin to someone approaching. He turns and finds himself face to face with Leon.

“Leon!” he exclaims before giving the other man a hug. Leon returns the gesture, thumping his back twice before moving back, grinning. Merlin looks at Percival to see him grinning too. Leon throws a waterskin at Percival—which the knight catches gracefully—before handing Merlin another one. He accepts the drink with a smile and a nod of his head.

“You have a few moments more before we leave. I have the horses ready a little ways from here.” Leon reports.

He nods, then looks back at the direction of the castle. He can’t see it from here, but he can still hear the shouting. Everyone shouting. May the gods forgive him for what he’s done and what he’s about to do.

“And Sire?” Leon puts a warm hand on Merlin’s shoulder, prompting the warlock to look at the man. “We have Gaius. And Odi and Ezra? They’re with him. They escaped before we took you. I told Gaius where to go, and I suspect they’re on their way to meet Gwen.”

Merlin smiles so wide he fears his face splitting. He hasn’t smiled like that since Arthur came back from Avalon, and before he knows it, tears are falling down his face. He’s so relieved to know that they’re safe, that they’re about to be free.

Strong arms envelope him. He hugs Percival back, then nods at Leon. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Leon. And please, don’t call me ‘Sire.’”

The other man smiles before gesturing at Percival. “Before we go, Merlin, you have to say this.”

Leon hands him a piece of parchment with foreign words. It’s the spell, written haphazardly onto the parchment, but legible. He reads it in his head twice, getting a feel of the words, letting his magic touch it a bit, become familiar with the enchantment.

He nods at Percival and Leon, and waves them back, remembering briefly how painful the binding spell was.

He takes a deep breath, then starts to enchant.

_Áhreddan bánfæt áfréoe lrápas_

_Leáfan bánfæt bebodræden_

The magic burns.

It starts slow, from the tips of his toes and fingers and hair, gradually making their way to his center. He can feel the movement of his heart, the flow of his blood, the nerves of his skin. It burns with a ferocity that leaves him breathless, the energy coursing through his body is everywhere all at once. It has been too long since he’s had this kind of power, and his magic gets greedy. It takes in the salt from the earth and water from the air. He feels his lungs catching fire, and he gasps, his hands grasping for something to hold on to. He senses the sway of the leaves, he hears the singing of the crickets.

The magic burns high until he can no longer sense anything. He goes numb, a drum beating loudly in his ear, and he wonders if he’s still on this plane of existence. He feels otherworldly.

He perceives everything.

Merlin gasps as his body falls to the dirt. He opens his eyes to see Leon’s and Percival’s worried faces. He can _hear_ their hearts beating wildly. Enraptured by the erratic tremors coming from his friends, Merlin reaches his hands to touch the muscles of their chests. He wants to grasp the sound. He wants to hold it in his hand…

Percival grabs his arm, then pushes it down to the ground. Merlin looks at the other man, and he can taste the sweat coming from Percival’s neck. He sees the vein underneath Percival’s chin pulsing. He must get near it…

“Merlin!”

Everything comes crashing down at once. His breathing is ragged as his senses come back to him completely. All he hears is his own beating heart. All he tastes is his own spit.

“Merlin, are you alright?” Leon asks.

He looks beyond their heads at the clear sky, centering himself. He calms his magic for a few moments before he nods.

“Yes, I’m alright,” he answers.

“Your magic?” Percival prompts.

Merlin smiles. “My magic is back.”

Percival and Leon both grin.

“Then, let’s go, my friend.”

Percival pulls him up and they set off towards the horses.

 

A thousand leagues away, Arthur wakes up to his body burning from within. His nerves slowly lose that heightened senses, he can no longer hear that second beating heart, and he knows exactly what has happened.

The magic leaves him.

No.

“No!” he screams into the darkness.


End file.
